


Break Me Down

by Porrie14



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porrie14/pseuds/Porrie14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione has snapped, having suffered one time too many at the hands of her tormentors. Warnings: OC Character Death, Dark Hermione</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Me Down

**A/N: With the recent release of Blood on the Dance Floor’s newest hit, Rise and Shine, I felt compelled to make a fanfic about the horrors of bullying. It is wrong, it is not okay by any means. Some of the things Hermione goes through may seem a bit extreme, but it is to make a point. Listen to BOTDF’s Rise and Shine here (watch?v=n5tPVjUimKA) on Youtube. If that kind of music is not your particular cup of tea, I totally understand, and you do not need to listen to it to get the full impact of the fanfic.**

**Disclaimer: I do not or will never own Harry Potter, unfortunately** **L** **If I did, Ginny would be with Draco, Ron would be with Lavender, and Hermione would be with Harry. I only like to take the characters out of the toy box and play with them!**

**So, without further ado, I give you Break Me Down.**

_Brightest witch of my age, indeed._

It was the year after the final battle – early May, to be exact – and nineteen year old Hermione was sitting in the far back of her World History class, near the window in which she gazed out of. Her parents, whose memory she had been able to restore with the help of Bill Weasley, had held firm that she took a few summer courses as they believed she was far behind in her Muggle studies. Of course, she wouldn’t argue with them, not with all she’d put them through.

It was a stormy day, and the rain pelted the school roof, slightly drowning out the teacher’s insistent droning. Though Hermione loved to learn, she had no wish to hear a lecture about the French Revolution, a topic she’d read about countless times. She’d rather be at St. Vladimir’s University for the Magically Gifted, earning her degree in Potions-making. She’d found her niche in the magical community, her role she played in the war making her a hero, though the paparazzi had stopped following her around like hounds a few months ago after seeing that she was too busy “leading a Muggle life at the moment.”

Speaking of the magical community, she hadn’t talked to any of her friends in months. Harry and Ron were training to become Aurors at the Auror Academy in Berlin. Ginny was busy being the perfect, little housewife. She and Harry had finally decided to give their relationship a go, and they both couldn’t be happier. Ginny was eight months pregnant with twins, and everyone was fawning over her. Many believed that the twins she was having were going to be reincarnations of Fred and George Weasley, who had both died hand-in-hand at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange during the Final Battle.

For the first time in a very long time, Hermione Granger felt alone. Isolated. She’d written several times to her two best friends, but neither had replied. It made her angry, really, that after all they’d been through, they chose to just blatantly ignore her.

_Feeling a little upset, are we?_

Suddenly, a giant paper ball came whizzing at her, bouncing off her head and landing on her desk. She looked up to see who’d thrown it, and wasn’t surprised to see Anna Whittier – a blond haired, blue-eyed menace who had made it her life’s mission to belittle Hermione whenever possible – smirking at her from across the classroom. The teacher’s back was turned, and was completely oblivious to what was going on behind him.

With a glare sent in Anna’s direction, Hermione picked up the paper ball and uncrumpled it to reveal a rather nasty message:

**Is your hair bushy EVERYWHERE, Granger, or just on top of that filthy head of yours?**

Hermione’s cheeks lit up as if they were Christmas lights. Several loud snickers erupted throughout the entire classroom. It was then that the teacher turned around with a questioning glance at the troublesome students.

          “Alright, class,” he said, “let’s get back on task here, shall we?” With that, he turned back to the chalk board, continuing his lecture and mapping out trading routes.

          Hermione swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and balled up the horrid note once again.

          _Steady, Granger._

_No! I won’t be steady! This has gone on far too long, and if mum and dad won’t do anything about it, I will._

She quickly resolved to talk to Anna after class was over. A mistake which would only spark the beginning of a series of terrible events.

~H*G~

“Anna, could you hold on for a moment?” Hermione called out as the lunch bell rang. She watched the tall blonde and her cronies turn around with matching scowls on their faces.

“What do you want?” Anna asked exasperatedly, glancing at her wrist as if she were checking the time on an imaginary watch.

_As if you have something better to do,_ Hermione thought irritably. She then took a deep breath.

“Anna, I know we’ve never been on the best of terms. That is to say that… ever since the beginning of term–”

“Is there a point to this little rant of yours, Granger?” Anna asked snootily.

Hermione clenched her fists, and bit out, “Yes, actually. Believe it or not I don’t appreciate you making barbs at every chance you get. It’s humiliating and demeaning, and I’m sure if someone treated you the way you treat me, you’d also have something to say about it. We may never be able to be friends, but respect me enough as a peer and as a _human being_ to stop putting me down just to make others laugh, you inconsiderate chit!” The last part was definitely _not_ part of the carefully memorized speech Hermione had put together.

Anna smirked and raised a delicate eyebrow. “Guys, I think we’ve been hurting Hermione’s _feelings_!” she said in a staged whisper, getting in Hermione’s face, their noses just barely touching. Several chuckles and loud guffaws erupted behind her. It was then that Hermione noticed that more students had joined them, and each wore a grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s.

The young witch’s heart dropped.

“I’ll let you know something right now, Bush,” Anna said, and Hermione flinched at the cruel new nickname. “This is my school. It has always been my school, and it’ll continue to be my school. You’re on my turf. I can treat you however I want, when I want, and if you have a problem with that, go tell mummy or daddy, but know this: I will not get in trouble.”

It was like a slap to the face for Hermione. In reaction to the girl’s evil words, Hermione’s hand immediately flew to the back pocket of her jeans, where her wand was hidden.

“Gonna pull a knife on me, then?” Anna cackled. “Gee, Bush, I didn’t know you could be so barbaric… but I suppose your hair does say otherwise.”

          “Alright, people, break it up.” A professor who was locking up her room spotted the large crowd in the middle of the hallway, and moved to disperse it before a fistfight. When she saw it was two girls arguing, she rolled her eyes exasperatedly and said, “Honestly, are we in middle school? Stop acting like children, and get to class!”

          She stayed there, and stared the students down until, little by little, the crowd began to break away.

          Anna smirked once more at Hermione. “See you tomorrow, Bush. I’m actually looking forward to World History now.”

          People deliberately shoved past Hermione as they passed her still form, one student going as far as kicking her in the shins.  

_What just happened?_

~H*G~

The abuse continued for weeks. Hermione tried to tell herself that, eventually, they would stop tormenting her.

She was wrong.

Day after day, it only got worse for the witch. At first, it was little things like everyone laughing and snickering at her when she opened her mouth to say something. Then it escalated to instances where someone would openly trip her in the hallway or dunk her head in the fountain as she was getting a drink.

The boys were the worst, by far.

At one point, a really cute boy, Aaron, had asked Hermione if she’d want to go out with him, an offer she simply couldn’t turn down as her relationship with him would probably help to tone down the abuse.

They went out for coffees the following weekend. The date – in Hermione’s opinion – was going great. She was able to vent her anger about the harassment she suffered at school to someone who seemingly cared. He nodded and smiled, and didn’t once stop her little rant. After a while, he suggested that they go back to his place to study for the upcoming final, but his tone hinted they’d be doing something more exciting than “studying.”

Hermione was shocked, to say the least, but quickly agreed. In the back of her mind, she knew she was asking for trouble, that this was not the kind of attention she so desperately craved.

_But some attention is better than no attention, right?_

They drove to Aaron’s home, a large flat he shared with his older brother, who wasn’t home at the time. They did study a bit, at first. Then things began to get… heated. Hermione couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so good, so _wanted_.

The young witch was only in her bra – which was actually dangerously close to falling off – when the others came down from their hiding place in the loft with cameras, phones, and iPods. Hermione screeched with fright, and humiliation, scrambling to cover herself up.

“So you really _do_ have a bush down there, then!” Hermione heard Anna Whittier’s high-pitched cackle.

_Where are my bloody clothes?_ the witch thought frantically, but settled for the duvet that was draped across the couch.

“Aaron, what – ” She was surprised to turn around only to find that he’d fallen off the couch, laughing so hard that tears began to leak from his eyes.

“T-to think… someone w-w-would actually want _you_!” That hurt.

Tears of her own sliding down her cheeks, Hermione wrapped the duvet tighter around herself, grabbed her purse, and sprinted as fast as she could out of the flat. When she saw that no one was chasing her, she stopped, turned on the spot, and Apparated home.

Only two days after, there were videos and pictures posted on nearly every social site on the web – Facebook, Myspace, even a _shock video_ site. All were under titles such as “Bestiality?” and “Aaron’s Animal Fetish.” Of course, Aaron got a good laugh off of it – _he_ wasn’t the one who was nearly naked.

Hermione’s parents scolded her and grounded her. She had expected them to be on her side, and it hurt that they actually said she _deserved_ to be plastered on the internet like that.

“Maybe you’ll think twice about doing something that stupid next time,” her father had stated angrily.

Still no contact from her “friends.”

But that was two full weeks ago, and it was time for summer school to end. The students were packed into the auditorium. By some twisted show of fate, Hermione had been seated next to Anna Whittier’s cronies, though Anna herself was about six seats down.

Hermione could _feel_ eyes on her back, but she was determined to not turn around.

_Just one more hour, Hermione. Then, you can go back to the Wizarding World, and you’ll never have to see their faces again._ Her little pep talk helped only a bit.

The director of the summer school program stood at the podium, and spoke into a microphone. “I’d like to take time to say how grateful I am that you students completed…” The man’s voice drone on and on, and Hermione couldn’t help but feel agitated that he was taking so long to say goodbye to students he probably didn’t even know personally.

She felt someone playing with her hair. “Cut,” she said through clenched teeth, “It. Out.”

She turned around slightly in her seat only to see the light bounce off of a particularly sharp pair of scissors. Her eyes widened in fear.

“What are you _doing_?” the witch asked no one in particular.

“You’re ends are so split, Bush,” one female voice snickered.

“Yeah, we were only giving you a trim-up!” another stated. That earned several laughs and loud chuckles.

Hermione was afraid, but reached her hand around, and realized with sheer horror that she now sported a bald spot the size of a silver dollar.

“What is your problem?!” Hermione nearly screamed.

“Ahem.” She turned back around to find the director scowling at her. “All done there, miss? Is it alright with you if we continue?”

Hermione nodded sheepishly, then angrily thought that she had nothing to be sheepish about! She moved to open her mouth, determined that he would hear her, when she felt an odd sensation on her back. As if someone was _pouring_ something down her shirt. Once again, she turned around in her seat, and (sure enough) one of her tormentors, a boy named Eric, was pouring a plastic bottle filled with foul-smelling liquid down her back.

The foul-smelling liquid smelled increasingly like urine with each second.

Hermione screamed once again, and this time, shot right out of her seat. She pivoted on her foot, fully intending to flee the auditorium, but someone – she couldn’t see who – stuck their foot out, and sent her flying down the bleachers. Full-belly guffaws followed her on her descent to the floor. She was only three rows up, so really, the fall wasn’t enough to hurt her terribly.

But it definitely still did _hurt_. She lay there, sprawled across the floor, waiting for someone – _anyone_ – to help her up  Or, maybe, for a hole in the ground to open up and engulf her.

Fate was unkind to Hermione.

“Who is that girl?” the director cried. “She has been making trouble since the very beginning of my speech! Stop making a commotion and pick yourself up, young lady.”

“That’s the Bush!” someone supplied, and the entire auditorium erupted in cruel laughter.

Hermione got to all fours, and saw with despair that even some of the teachers were chuckling. The despair quickly turned to anger.

She saw red. She closed her eyes. _Count to ten, Hermione…_

_No, no. Not this time. I’m taking back what is mine._

When the young witch opened her eyes, she saw that she had stood and that her wand was flourished.  _What the – ?_

Then, she saw the bodies. Dripping with blood, pooling the floor with the sticky red substance. Dead bodies everywhere. Anna’s body, Aaron’s body, the director’s body – no one had been spared.

Hermione didn’t feel scared, or even horrified. For the first time in a long time, she finally felt at peace… relieved.

~H*G~

Ginny Potter held her swollen belly, and gasped with fright as she saw the front page of the Daily Prophet.

“MUM! Come quick!” she cried.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Molly Weasley quickly exited the kitchen where she had been preparing dinner. Her hands immediately flew to her only daughter’s stomach. “Is it the babies? Are they coming?”

Ginny batted her mother’s hands away. “No, it’s the Daily Prophet – look at the front page, mum.” 

Molly Weasley picked up the fallen newspaper and read:

 

**HERMIONE GRANGER (WAR HERO) INVOLVED IN MUGGLE MURDERS**

**Hermione Granger, war hero, and best friend of Harry Potter, was involved in no less than 60 Muggle murders at 1:30 PM today. Ministry officials noticed an unusually high amount of magic being used in the area, and went to the scene only find Ms. Granger standing with her wand flourished in the middle of a large room, and surrounded by multiple dead Muggles. She was then taken to Azkaban, where she will stay for the time being to await trial. (cont’d on page 9)**

 

Beneath the headline, was a picture of Hermione getting hauled away off to Azkaban to await trial. She didn’t appear to be upset. In fact, she was… smiling.

“Oh no…” Molly whispered.

“It’s all our fault, mum!” Ginny cried. “We haven’t responded to any of her owls! Keep reading – the Prophet says she snapped. That the lack of contact with the Wizarding World is what drove her to do it. I should have sent her an owl to check up on her! Oh, I’ve just been so caught up with the twins, but that’s not an excuse – ” At that point, Ginny was sobbing and hyperventilating, and Molly had to cut her off.

“Ginny, dear, Hermione is – ” Now it was Ginny’s turn to cut her mum off, and she did so by giving an ear-splitting cry and clutching her belly. The love seat she was sitting in was instantly soaked.

“Mum, I think they’re coming!” Ginny cried with her eyes screwed shut.

Molly jumped right on top of things. And, with that, Hermione was thrown from their minds.

 

**A/N: Parents, teachers, friends, peers – do not EVER let it get this far. A diamond is one of  (if not _the_ ) hardest mineral on Earth, but even it is susceptible to cracking.**

**A/N 2: Love it? Hate it? Let me know by dropping a kind review! Critiques are welcome, flames will be reported and/or removed ^.^**

**A/N 3: Also posted on Fanfiction.net under the same name.  
**


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